Suburban Deception
by rgs38
Summary: Living in the suburbs was supposed to be easy, low crime, good schools, but Wordy finds out that there is no place safe from bad things and bad people when a nighttime run turns dangerous. Some cursing, violence, and abuse. Wordycentric!
1. Chapter 1

2

_Suburban Deception-Chapter 1_

_So this is my second fanfiction, and I really wanted to write something about Wordy. I've been trying to think of something to write for him (I wish he had more story-lines in the show to give me some ideas!) I'm not sure how this is going to turn out, might be longer, might just be a one shot, either way, I'd love your feedback. P.S. I don't own anyone that you recognize and I don't know how anything works in Canada._

Quiet suburban areas are often the most deceptive. If you live in a city you know to look out for alleys, teenagers with their pants too low and the hoods too high, the kids on the corner with less than innocent intentions and sales practices. In rural areas you're acutely aware of everything around you because it's supposed to be silent. A truck in the middle of the night is not a good sign, neither is an open gate, lights on in the dead of night, all things out of the ordinary. But in the suburbs, ordinary is tough to determine. The guy next door might be a normal family, but maybe that babysitter is getting with the husband, the pool boy with the wife, maybe the kid who knocks on your door selling cookies is hiding the bruises under that uniform. It was the suburbs that had that deceptive calm, the calm before the storm.

There wasn't really much that would surprise a seasoned police officer, very little that would surprise a member of the elite SRU, and even less that would surprise officer Kevin Wordsworth, Wordy. _I've seen it all._ He thought to himself as he ran down the sidewalk of his neighborhood. It was nearly midnight, not quite the average time for a run, but with the shifts that Wordy worked, no one would be especially shocked to see him running down the street at any hour. It had been a particularly tough day for him. Families, kids and wives, always got to him, made him particularly angry. It was a combination of things, his family always came to mind when he had any cases like today, and then Shelly's past made him particularly attentive to domestic violence. He was thinking through the case again, playing it over in his head. The debrief had not helped in the slightest, he knew there was something else he should have been able to do for them...there had to be something he did wrong that could have led to what happened but he couldn't figure it out.

He was running faster now, trying (and failing) to get away from his thoughts. He was breathing heavily, almost tripping over his feet as he sprinted, throwing his head back and just running, exhaling small yells of anger. When he was on the verge of passing out he slowed, coming to a stop and putting his hands on his knees, he leaned over trying to even his breathing. It was in this moment that he thought he heard a ruffling behind him. He was too breathless to turn around but he consciously cleared his head and listened. He slowly turned, not raising his head much as he tried to let the dizziness pass. He saw a squirrel running up a tree and smiled to himself, _I'm way too paranoid._

He took a seat on the curb, deciding that he would wait until he was sure he could make it home without falling over himself with dizziness. He looked out over the quiet neighborhood, he was a few miles from his own home, but this area was generally very good. He'd looked into extensively before buying the house. It was a bit pricey for his salary, but completely worth it to assure a safe neighborhood for his and girls. He thought it was time to get up, it was about 12:45 and though he knew his wife and kids were asleep, he didn't want to leave them for too long, he had very little time with them to begin with.

He placed his hands on the curb with the intent of pushing himself up. _Damn, I didn't realize how exhausted I was._ He thought as he slowly talked to himself. _Okay, on three I'm going to get up and walk home. One, two, three...um, four, five._ He said actually pushing himself up this time. He laughed at himself and turned to walk home. He had only gone past a few houses when he realized that there was a light on in one of the houses he had just passed. _That's weird._ He said to himself, _But then again it's probably just some teenager who's cramming for a test tomorrow. Stop being so paranoid!_ He chastised himself. He stood looking at the house for another moment then turned his back to continue his slow walk. He had barley moved ten feet when he heard the distinct sound of a gunshot ring out and disturb the calm silence of the neighborhood. In seconds he sprung into action, knowing what he needed to do.

_I know these first chapters are short. They'll get longer as we go. Tell me what you're thinking._


	2. Chapter 2

3

Suburban Deception-Chapter 2

_So no, it's not going to be a one-shot. I'm trying something new, going to structure it a little differently than the episodes, so Chapter 1 was not a fast-forward/rewind thing, it's happening pretty much the same time as this chapter, you'll see how they fit together. This is also my first time posting multiple chapter, so I might screw it up, sorry. P.S. I own nothing and please tell me what to do better. _

_What a long day. _Greg stumbled into his apartment and went directly to the couch, falling forward onto it without removing his shoes or sweatshirt. He laid there, just breathing, trying not to think, trying to let himself dissolve into the couch. He let out a long sigh as he repositioned himself, kicking off his sneakers in the process. He closed his eyes, trying to think about anything other than the call they got today. It had gotten to all of them but it was a really tough one for the guys who were married. All of Team One understood the gravity of what they were dealing with but he knew that he, Ed, and Wordy were particularly horrified. _How can people do that to one another?_ Greg thought to himself. He knew that the team was under the belief that he had the answer to everything, but he didn't understand humanity at some points, he just had to pretend to. He had to get inside their head, find some degree of similarity between himself and the subject, easier some days than it was others.

Nearly asleep, he felt his cell phone ring and vibrate in his pocket. He waited a moment to make sure that he wasn't imagining it and picked it up after looking at the caller ID. Greg knew that he had told Wordy and Ed after the debrief to call him if they needed him, but he honestly wasn't expecting for either of them to take him up on his offer.

"Hey Wordy, what's up?" He tried to put on a chipper voice, not wanting Wordy to feel badly for calling him at...12:45 AM? _God, I've got to be in the office at 8..._but his train of thought was interrupted by ragged breathing. "Wordy?" His adrenaline began to rush as cop mode kicked in.

"Sarge," Wordy whispered, out of breath slightly. Greg could hear the seriousness in his voice. "I'm at 2144 Willow Street. Single gunshot fired about a minute ago. Nothing since. I'm going in. I don't have my gun, just a pocket knife and my phone-"

"Wordy," Greg interrupted him "I'll call for backup, don't go in without any gear or a gun, it's too risky-" Now it was Wordy's turn to cut Greg off.

"I'm going in." He said with a resolve that Greg knew there was no arguing with.

"Keep your phone on, I want to have some form of audio." Greg said in a frustrated voice, with a hint of pride breaking through. Officers from any other unit for the most part would never even consider going in without backup and a gun. His guys might break all the rules but there was never a doubt that they would step in if they were needed.

"Copy." Wordy said as he slipped the phone into his pocket, extending the knife from its casing. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and he kicked down the door. Meanwhile Greg had picked up his home phone and called for backup to the address that Wordy had given him. He also called Ed. He didn't ask questions when Greg explained the situation, all he said was,

"I'll be there in 10 and I'll bring my extra gear for Wordy incase we need it. I'll start the chain." The phone clicked on Greg's end and he knew that Ed was already on the phone with the rest of the team, who would be there in minutes. Greg pulled his shoes back on and walked swiftly out the door, listening to Wordy go through the house. Every so often Wordy would whisper into his cell phone.

"Living room clear. Found a picture, looks like there should be four in the house, two parents, two boys, one roughly 15, the other maybe 9." Greg was driving as Wordy carefully spoke into his phone again. "Downstairs clear. Heading up." Greg was about three minutes away when he heard Wordy start talking again, though this time not into the phone, but to someone in the house. "Police! Strategic Response Unit! Lower the weapon!" Greg didn't know what happened next, only that Wordy yelled something out, there was static on the phone (assumingly from the fabric of Wordy's shorts rubbing against it in his pocket) and then a gunshot silenced everything. The phone was dead. Greg cursed under his breath and pushed down harder on the gas.

_Don't you love it when I leave you with cliffhangers and gunshots? You might kill me, but I'm not sure how much I'm going to elaborate on what happened with the call earlier in the day. Just be aware. This might get to be long enough that I don't need/you won't want, the extra stuff. I think I might have a way to work it in...we'll see. _


	3. Chapter 3

4

Suburban Deception-Chapter 3

_Are you reviewing? Because I'm open to going a few ways with this one so try and sway me. Also tell me what you're thinking about the structure (not like the episode) is it confusing? Thank, I try to respond to all the reviews I get. I, unfortunately do not own the Flashpoint cast, though I am open to late Christmas presents..._

It was days like these that he wished he'd carry his gun 24/7. He wasn't a fan of having a gun in his home, he didn't like the ideas that his daughters might some day be able to reach the top shelf of the cabinet...behind the baking sheets... the ones that even his wife couldn't reach...he just was never a huge fan of guns. He didn't object to them at work (he wouldn't object to one now for that matter), people don't really take you seriously if you don't have some kind of danger. Even when Greg would go and negotiate people someone would accompany him with a gun. So Wordy felt almost naked at this moment. When entering a situation they were usually covered head to toe in protective gear for their bodies and other gear and weapons to use if needed. At this moment Wordy had a t-shirt (soaked with sweat), a pair of shorts, running shoes, his phone, his wallet and badge, and an old pocket knife (again the paranoia, he wouldn't leave home without something to protect himself).

He had just gotten to the second floor of the cosy home and went directly to the room with the light on. He pressed his ear to the door and was able to head a few different sounds, crying, heavy breathing, yelling...he figured it was about time for another voice to join the mix. "Police! Strategic Response Unit! Lower the weapon!" _Shit, _he cursed himself._ This isn't a tactical entry, all I've really got is my head right now and I don't want that blown off!_ He took a breath and quickly surveyed the room. He knew that he had made the wrong kind of entry, he should have gone in more gently, but he really wasn't expecting what he saw. A boy, the 15 year old by the look of it, was holding the gun...not what he expected. The gun was pointed at his parents, sitting up horrified in their king size bed but when Wordy barged in the boy had turned slightly. He didn't turn his body as much as he turned his head. Everyone in the room looked at Wordy for a moment and he tried to take stock of the situation.

_15 year old boy approximately 30 feet away from me. Too far to do anything fast. Looks more scared than anything. He stood on the mother's side of the bed. She's pale, scared? No, something else off about her. Dad looks mad, muscles tense, he's thinking. Damn. _"Sir, stay where you are." Wordy yelled too late. The dad had already lunged out, over the mother and tried to take the gun from the boy. There was a struggle, mom was yelling, dad was on top of her, the son had way better leverage and was just about to pull the gun free when it went off.

When the struggle started, Wordy took cover. Out of habit he abandoned the doorframe where he stood and turned against the wall. He let himself gently edge his face into the door way to try and keep track of what was going on. In the confusion, he had not heard another door open in the hall while he analyzed the situation. He had not heard the quiet footsteps behind him. And by the time he figured out what had happened, the small nine year old boy was left standing in the door frame where Wordy had just been. He saw him and without thinking he dove at the boy, trying to knock him over to cover on the other side of the door. He heard the gun go off and felt the burning in his left shoulder, he knew that he had taken a bullet but he continued to pull the boy to the other side of the door. "Stay here." Wordy said with an authoritative voice. The boy was white as a ghost and looked horrified as he saw blood drip from Wordy's shoulder.

He got to his feet and approached the door again, trying to find the least awkward way to minimize the bleeding and hold his shoulder. When Wordy appeared in the room he saw the father on the ground, nursing what looked like a broken nose, mom was still in bed, screaming, and the boy was standing, pointing the gun at his father. The boy looked scared, nearly crying and Wordy decided to intervene.

"Hey," he said gently, not realizing how ragged his voice sounded. The boy looked up but kept an eye on his father. "my name is Kevin, my friends call me Wordy." He looked at the boy, trying to read the face of mixed emotions. "Can you tell me your name?" Wordy tried to be empathetic but the throbbing in his shoulder was getting to him.

The boy considered Wordy for a minute. "I...is...is Ryan okay?" he asked stuttering, his voice breaking slightly.

"Is Ryan your little brother?" Wordy asked cautiously.

"Y...yeah. D...did I shoot him?" Fear was evident in his words and tears were coming to his eyes.

"No. No buddy you didn't shoot Ryan. You got a little piece of me," Wordy said showing the boy his right hand which had been awkwardly tucked under his left arm in an attempt to control the bleeding. "but it's okay," Wordy said with a bit of a smile "because I know you didn't mean to do that. I know that you were scared and you didn't want anyone to take the gun from you, I'm not going to try that, okay? No one," Wordy gave a serious look at the father "is going to do that. I just want to talk." Wordy said only faltering as he tried to put his hand back on his shoulder.

"Eric. I'm Eric," the boy said with a slightly calmer voice. He looked like he was trying to think, debating something in his mind. "Is...do you...ugh..." he let out a sigh. "R...Ryan." He called out. Wordy's arms went to his side as he tried to prevent the boy from coming into the room.

"Eric. I told Ryan to stay where he was. I don't want him near the gun, you know?" Wordy said hesitantly, not sure what Eric was thinking.

"No, me either," he said quickly, "Ryan, go to the other bathroom and get Mr. Wordy that big towel okay?" Eric said. Ryan quietly scattered away and came back within seconds.

"Here Mr. Wordy." Ryan held out a blue and white towel with dinosaurs on it. Wordy took it and told Ryan to go downstairs quietly, hoping that Greg was there by now, but the boy didn't want to move. Wordy put him back in a safe spot in the hall and returned to the room with the towel, still not quite understanding.

"I...it's for you," Eric said, looking almost shy, "you...you're shoulder. It's, ah, it's bleeding a lot. I figured you could wrap that around your shoulder." Wordy smiled.

"Thank you Eric, that's really a smart idea, you must do well in school right?" Wordy asked as he tightly pulled the towel around his shoulder.

"Ah, I do okay." He said calmly, seeming to almost forget about the gun in his hand. His father let out a rude laugh, bringing attention back to him. Wordy gave him a stern look that just screamed _Shut Up!_

"Eric," Wordy called out, trying to get his attention on him again. "want to tell my why we're here tonight?" Wordy asked, genuinely confused. Eric smirked a bit. It wasn't an evil sort of look, more like a resigned sort of determination.

"Well Wordy, I'm sorry that you had to walk in on this. I mean, I get that your job is to stop me, but I'm going to kill my parents tonight." Eric looked from Wordy to his father as he cocked the gun for another shot.

_Cliffhangers, cliffhangers...I promise I won't keep you waiting for long._


	4. Chapter 4

Suburban Deception-Chapter 4

_So you know how I said I'd probably mess up when I started posting chapters? Well I did, so sorry if you started reading within like, seconds of me posing this story, I messed up and made chapter 3 chapter 1 and all this stuff. So I hope it makes sense and I hope you're ready for (probably) another short chapter. We're going to backtrack a little here. I own nothing!_

Greg didn't even want to think how fast his team had driven to get to the scene when he saw that they had all beaten him there. They were all dressed in their gear, with the exception of Greg, making him feel unprepared but he quickly put the thought from his mind and went into Sarge role. "Okay guys, I don't know much but here's the story. Wordy called me at 12:46 this morning and told me that a single shot was fired from this residence. He was unarmed, with the exception of a pocket knife but he wanted to go in. He kept the phone going in his pocket and cleared the downstairs. He said he saw a family picture, two boys roughly 15 and 9 and two parents." Greg paused, his team waiting for what they were sure wasn't good news. "Wordy went upstairs and seemed to go through a door, he identified himself and a few moments later he moved, as I could tell by the sounds from the phone, there was a gunshot, and the phone went dead." Greg looked around at his team seeing mixed emotions. Sam looked angry his eyes and expression especially hard. Jules looked worried, though she tried exceptionally hard not to show it. Spike looked like a mixture of both as he held a stoic face of pain, he couldn't lose another team member. Ed looked like he was thinking, hard.

"We're going in. Spike, in the truck. I want to know everything about these people. I want to know what they do, where they come from, who's gun that is, hell I want to know they're birthdays." Ed spat out as Spike retreated to the truck yelling 'Copy' over his shoulder.

"Sam," Ed turned his attention to the next member "I want eyes and ears, quick as you can, quiet as you can." That was all the direction that he needed as he ran off to the truck to find the equipment. "Jules, find a perch, you're Sierra 1. We don't know what's going on, where they are, or who the shooter is, but we need options." Jules took a step back, looking for different places she could find a vantage from. She ran off, mumbling something about wind trajectory.

Ed turned to Greg, trying to figure out what they should do. "Well boss, I personally want to get in there." Ed said with hesitance.

"I do too Eddie, I do too, but we can't risk it. Wordy knows his stuff, he can fight, he can negotiate and he can operate hurt, we've got to trust him." Greg said, trying to reassure his team leader. Wordy and Ed were not only the most veteran members of the team (besides Greg himself), but were best friends, bonding over the struggle to maintain a family and a career. "So Eddie, what can you do right now to help him?" Greg asked, trying to bring Ed back to his job, his analytical side which functioned so well under pressure.

"Entry plan. Get blueprints, talk to the neighbors, find out whose room is where. Less lethal, possibly have kids in danger." Ed said, processing things, getting back into mindset that they needed him to be in. "What about you boss?" Ed asked, unsure of what else needed to be done.

"Well, first thing I've got to do is wake up Shelly..." Greg said with regret. It was almost 2:30 in the morning and he wanted nothing more than to let her sleep through the worry and find Wordy, asleep, unharmed, when she woke up, but as Greg weighed the possibilities, things seemed grimmer. Wordy had no support, no protection, and no gun. Greg also knew that Wordy would gladly take a bullet for another person, especially a child. He came back to reality as Ed looked at him sympathetically. "Then I'd really like to try and get an earwig to Wordy, I just don't know how." Greg stood frustrated. Ed nodded and turned away to find blueprints as Greg pulled out his cell phone. "Shelly. It's Greg, I'm sorry to have to wake you up to this but there's an incident, Wordy called it in and he's inside." Greg paused as she spoke. "I...I don't know too much Shelly," he didn't want to lie, but he didn't want to worry her with the details of gunshots, "No, I don't think you should come. Stay home with the girls, I'll call you or I'll have Spike call you from the van if we find out anything, just stay put, we're trying to get an audio feed up now. I'll be in touch." Greg finished, feeling bad about lying, but knowing it was for the best. His train of thought was broken as Sam's voice came over the earpiece.

"Sarge, I've got a location for you. Master bedroom. Thermal says that there are one figure, I think female, in the bed, she's moving. There's a figure on the ground, I think he's alive. There's the gunman in the southwest corner of the room. I think Wordy is near the door of the room and there's a small figure just outside the doorframe." Sam finished and waited for further commands.

"Good. Good work Sam? Where are you, on the roof?" Greg asked. He couldn't see in the darkness of the night...morning, but he knew that Sam was most comfortable on the rooftops.

"Affirmative." Sam said quietly.

"Think you can get an audio signal through there, might be too thick..." Greg asked.

"I can sure as hell try." Sam whispered with resolve.

"Oh, and Sam, I think I have an idea of how to get Wordy and earwig. Radio back once you've set up the audio and the video and we'll talk it through and see what you think."

"Copy." Sam said as he went to shuffle along the rooftop. Greg stepped into the van as he heard Spike talking to his computers.

"Come on my sweethearts, show my your precious little information...you can do it..." It wasn't until Greg cleared his throat that Spike had realized that he was no longer alone. Spike sat up straighter and kept his eyes glued to the computer screen. "Um...you didn't hear that, did you boss?" Spike asked blushing.

"I did hear it Spike and I'm worried about you, but we'll talk later about that." Greg smiled slightly and saw Spike relax. Though he was the best Techie they'd ever had, he could only work efficiently if things were calm and he could separate himself from his teammate in trouble. This was too similar to what happened with Lou. Spike couldn't do anything to help in that situation and he knew all too well that he was virtually at the same level of powerlessness now also. "What do you have for me Spike?" Greg asked.

"I've got a start. Four occupants in the home. 50 year old Jerry King, defense attorney, not too high profile but successful, no criminal charges. 47 year old Audrey King, no job history for at least ten years, has a drunk and disorderly charge from about four years ago. Eric King, 15 years old, nothing criminal nothing gangs. Ryan King, 9 years old, still hacking into school and medical records on both the kids." Spike said in one breath.

"Great work Spike. Keep it up. I'm going to try and get Wordy and earwig, Sam is working on eyes and ears." Greg said listing to himself the different options they were working on. "Jules," he said into his earpiece, "how's the perch looking?"

"Just set up. I'm on the roof two houses down west. The angle isn't great and the window isn't too big, but I have a visual on the room that everyone seems to be centralized in." She took a breath as she looked through her scope. "No joy. I can see Wordy and I can see the top of the Dad's head, by the direction they're both looking the gunman is in the corner of the room. If he moves a couple of feet north or east I should be able to get a shot."

"Great Jules, keep me posted." Greg said, thinking she was finished, but he heard a catch in her voice.

"Sarge," she paused "I can't see it very well, but there's something weird with Wordy..." Greg waited for her to continue but grew impatient.

"Jules, what is it?" He said a little more harshly than he intended.

"Well, I think...I think there's a towel wrapped around his left shoulder. It might be a design, but it looks like its not supposed to be red..." Greg didn't need her to finish, he understood what she meant, "I think he's been shot boss, he isn't really doing anything with that arm, it's hard to tell from here..."

"Okay Jules, keep me posted, hopefully Sam will have something soon." At that point, Sam came back over the radio.

"That's a negative Sarge, you were right, the roof is too thick to get anything through. I repel down the side of the house, but if the subject is up against that wall like Jules thinks then he might hear me and spook..." Sam said, leaving it in the form of a question. Greg thought about it for a minute,

"Eddie, what do you think?" Greg asked, not really wanted to make the decision himself.

"I'd say no go boss. It seems Wordy's got him under control, at least yellow, I think I found another way in. The neighbor is telling me that she's seen the older boy scale the northeast side of the house before to get in after curfew. Sam and I can go up there, cover Wordy without the subject seeing us and maybe get him an earwig if you can distract him, maybe with a nice ringing phone." Ed said, waiting for the command, hoping they could go in and see their friend, show them that they were there.

"Let's get it in the works guys." Greg said, happy to finally feel useful.

_Next chapter will be up soon. Snow days are great, though I really should get working on the homework I have to do in the chance that I have to go to class tomorrow..._


	5. Chapter 5

Suburban Deception-Chapter 5

_Woohoo! If you've made it this far, thanks so much for reading (and hopefully giving me some feedback). You know it by now, but I don't own anything. Not sure how much longer this is going to be, I've got a kind of plat arch in my head but the in-between is kind of bouncing around. Tell me what you're thinking. _

Wordy nodded trying to think, he had to think. Eric was riddled with contradictions that he didn't understand. _Maybe Sarge would be able to find something if he were here, _Wordy thought to himself. _What would Sarge do?_ _Connect, respect, protect...keep the peace. Got it._ "I hear you Eric, I just want you to know that I hear you." Wordy nodded, hoping that Eric would start talking, give him a way in. The kid really confused him. He cared for his brother and he helped patch up the police officer who stood in his way of following through with his plans. So far, the only thing Eric had said with true resolve was the fact that he was going to kill his parents, everything else had been shyly muttered. _That's worrying._ Wordy thought as he went over their conversation.

"Good to know." Eric said with a smile. There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice but what really showed was the feeling that a burden was lifted from him. Wordy had seen it many times. Greg would be talking to someone and the minute the subject felt they'd connected there was this unmistakable, indescribable burden lifted from them, like everything became manageable again now that someone in the world understood. Wordy returned the smile, noticing that Eric held the gun a little looser. _Good, get him talking._

"So Eric, you told me that you were going to kill your parents, and I'm sorry that you feel like that's the only way to handle this. You must be really angry if you're willing to do that..." Wordy trailed off trying to leave room for him to jump in.

"You can say that." Eric said simply, another charming half-smile coming to his face. His expression had eased but his words were still not hesitant. He was deflecting the serious ideas with humor and he was answering shortly, limiting any connection they were making.

"Can you tell me why you want to do that Eric? It's a pretty serious decision you're making here." Wordy said matter-of-factly. Eric sighed for a moment and seemed to be considering something in his head.

"I know it is. I know I'll go to jail, maybe for the rest of my life. But I need to do this. I don't expect you to understand." There was something in his voice that he couldn't pick out. It wasn't regret, definitely not regret, it was a determination, but a sorrowful one. Wordy knew that the boy was serious and with no way (aside from the pocket knife) to stop him, he knew that when the time came that Eric was tired of talking, his parents would be dead.

Something suddenly changed. It was barley detectable but Wordy would have sworn that a cross breeze had just come through the hall. It wasn't anything that anyone else would have noticed, and he tried not to be on edge, _it's just the wind_, he told himself. He didn't want to get pumped up for the arrival of his team only to be let down, he couldn't waste his energy wondering what they're plan was. His energy was draining fast, blood was dripping through the towel and he felt himself getting dizzy. He grabbed the doorframe for support and as he leaned against the door he almost thought that he say Ed and Sam quietly making their way through a window. _Great, and now I'm hallucinating, I don't think that's a symptom of blood loss..._he thought to himself, confused. Then he heard the phone ring, the sound piercing the silent room. _It's real._ He knew as Eric looked at him startled. He didn't chance a look back at Ed and Sam, he turned to the boy and quietly explained.

"That's probably my boss. He's just going to ask that everyone is okay, he wants to know if there's anything he can do to help you walk out of here Eric. Why don't you pick up, he's a nice guy, his name is Greg. You don't know to talk to him if you don't want, just tell him everyone is okay right now." Wordy said as he saw Sam crawling up to Ryan in the hallway, trying to get him to follow him away. Eric thought for a moment and went over to the phone, turning his back on Wordy._ This was the moment._ Wordy thought to himself. He turned as quickly as the pain and dizziness would allow and looked at Ed who threw him and earwig. _Thank God, not alone anymore,_ Wordy thought and he quickly put it in his ear just as Eric turned around.

"Yeah, this is Eric." He said into the phone sounding cautious. "Well Greg, I want to be honest with you," Eric said genuinely, "there isn't anything that I need or want from you at the moment. I'm going to kill my parents, officer Wordy is being great, trying to talk to me and calm me down and everything, but it's the way it's got to be. My dad has a bloody nose, and...well Officer Wordy has a gunshot wound in his left shoulder, but we're controlling the bleeding. Don't worry, he'll be out of here soon." Eric said, not letting Greg have a word in edgewise, "It's been nice talking to you, Wordy's right, you're a nice guy, thanks for calling." Eric pressed the end button on the phone and put it back on the night table.

"Well I didn't really expect that one." Wordy felt like the world had been lifted off his shoulders as he heard Greg's voice over his earwig. "Wordy, give a look to the window if you can hear me." Greg's voice was on edge, but still soft and gentle, as always. Wordy gazed at the window for a moment before hearing Greg's relieved voice. "Good to be with you buddy. Can't get a good read on this kid yet, get him talking, Sam and Ed will cover you. Jules is on a rooftop with a view of the window, if you think it's lost get him to move a few feet and she'll have the solution." Wordy didn't want to go lethal with this one, something about the whole situation made his question if Eric was really a bad guy.

"Eric, you keep saying that you're going to kill your parents, I get that you're really angry with them, but you still haven't told me why you want to do it..." The curiosity really was killing Wordy. This kid seemed to really have a good head on his shoulders, why was he about to do something so stupid?

"There's a long sad story that I'm sure you don't want to hear, a real lifetime movie in the making really." _There he goes deflecting with humor again, he wants me to ask, I know that he wants to tell his story._

"Come on, we've got all the time in the world here, let's not rush this, start from the beginning." Wordy asked, pushing a little bit. He glanced a look over at the parents. Dad looked outright angry, Mom still looked out of it. She swayed on the bed a bit and she hadn't said a word...was she drunk, it seemed so from Wordy's angle.

"Okay," Eric nodded, "I'll tell you. I did accidentally shoot you, so I guess you deserve an explanation."

"Great job Wordy. Keep him talking. Now that we've got Ryan out here we'll try to get some more info and some less lethal options going. I'm right here buddy, you're not alone." Greg reassured him. Wordy felt his strength fading fast but he knew that now was not the time to pass out, Eric needed to talk and he needed to listen and if that meant more pain then that would be route he'd need to take tonight.

"Thank you Eric, I'd really like to listen." Wordy said, again leaning on the doorframe. He knew that Ed couldn't see into the room, the angle was too sharp, he might be seeing a small sliver of the bed ,none of the important stuff, but Wordy wanted to be sure not to block his entrance if he needed to enter. Wordy looked at Eric, waiting for him to begin taking deep, slow breaths trying to keep his mind clear. _If there's a way of getting to him, then this will be it._

_Thanks for the read. Don't know if I'll have the next chapter up tonight or it'll wait until tomorrow. I kind of like to write in one sitting, which isn't too smart for a college student with homework and a 9:40 class in the morning...pray for a snow day!_


	6. Chapter 6

Suburban Deception- Chapter 6

_Thanks for still reading this. I know you just want to get on to see what happens in the story, so I'm only going to bore you with the prerequisite: I own nothing you recognize as being from the show. _

"What, should I start with the day I was born or something?" Eric asked, seemingly not sure where to begin. Wordy thought for a moment.

"Wherever it feels right to start from."

"Okay, well I guess that would be when I was six. I was doing fine but you know how childhood is, you get chaffered from one activity to another. For me it was boy scouts, hokey, basketball, you know, normal stuff. I was good at all of it, I just didn't really like going, wasn't my thing, you know?" He asked, this time not hypothetically.

"Yeah, I totally understand. I have three daughters, we signed them up for a dance class but the one, Claire our oldest, didn't want to go, insisted on playing hockey." Wordy thought about how he had surprised his girls with their new class. Claire crossed her arms and refused to step foot within the door. He smiled at the memory.

"You didn't force her to go, didn't tell her it would be good for her, fun, a way to make new friends?" Eric asked, seeming to know the answer he would get. Wordy shook his head.

"No, it took some looking but we found a girls hockey league for her age."

"See, that's what parents are supposed to do, at least that's what I've been told, not that I'd know." He was bitter now, staring down his outstretched arm looking at his seething father. Eric hadn't moved the gun since he regained control of it, and now he had it pointed in the direction of his father's head, though out of reach by a few feet.

"Empathize Wordy, let him know that you get it, parents make mistakes too, they're only human. Get him to focus on the events leading up to tonight, try to dissipate the rage." Greg said gently over the earwig. He knew that Wordy couldn't have been doing well between the bullet in his shoulder and the stressful day he'd had with no sleep in between.

"I hear you Eric, I really do. Parents don't always know the right thing to do, they make mistakes, lots of them. Sometimes parents do things which really screws their kid over, but they don't mean to. Whatever I do for my kids, I do because I love them. You know what I mean?" Wordy asked. He still wasn't sure of the circumstances so he didn't want to stretch to his parents loving him. Better to stick to the facts and right now the only facts available were the facts from his own life.

"I get it. I mean, in my head I know how that's supposed to work. But reality never matches up to your expectations of anything. I know that you love your kids. You're one of those people that I think I can trust everything you say, which is really rare. Not too many people are so trustworthy..." Eric seemed to be thinking again, nodding. "You know, my parents aren't like you though...they don't love me." Eric said with a straight face, almost without emotion.

"I'm sorry you think that-" Wordy was interrupted by Eric.

"It's not an opinion Wordy," he said strongly, anger stemming up "it's a validified fact. It's been confirmed by him. His own words, verbatim, ask him yourself if your don't believe me." Eric voice was getting higher as his eyes began getting glassy with tears. Wordy wasn't sure what would to really say, it was impossible for him to imagine not loving his own kids, how can anyone not love their child? Fortunately Greg's voice came in his ear.

"Wordy, calm him down, mirror and label the emotions. Don't contradict him, I know it's hard for you. Wordy, you can do this." Greg tried to help get him on track but he still didn't know where to go.

"I believe you Eric, I hear you. Some people are just bad people and sometimes bad people can be parents. It must have been incredibly difficult to grow up with that idea in your head." Wordy said at gently as he could. Eric nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I mean it was okay when I was doing sports, it was in middle school when I joined the art club instead of the basketball team that things got bad." He paused for a second "Then when I started writing poetry, well that was the last straw." Eric moved his arm, the one not holding the gun and bit the edge of his sleeve, pulling his arm closer to his body. He then pulled that arm out from the bottom of the shirt, switching the gun to his free hand and did the same to the other arm. He quickly pulled the shirt over his head and threw it to the ground. He resumed pointing the gun at his father's head, moving closer to him. Wordy tried to take everything in, already dizzy from the blood loss. Part of him heard the short exchange of the radio:

"Sierra 1 has the solution." Jules said shortly.

"No go Sierra 1, Hold. I think Wordy can talk him down, but Sam is on his way with less lethal. Wait for my command as a last resort." Greg said in an authoritative voice.

"Copy." Jules responded. But the main focus of Wordy was on the boy. It took him a moment, despite that fact that he saw the boy remove his navy blue pajama shirt, to realize that he was not wearing another one, he was only left in his skin, stained blue and purple, red and yellow with bruises and cuts in varying degrees of healing. Wordy wondered how the boy was even standing, his chest looked so badly beaten that he had no doubt that there were broken or fractured ribs. His face and neck was completely clear, leaving no mark, assuming he wear long sleeves. His forearms were a bit of a mystery to Wordy. They were bruised from defensive covering, that was obvious, but there were also small, parallel cuts running the full length of both his forearms.

Ed still couldn't see what was happening but he had a clear view of Wordy as he stood up straight (a wonder by how much blood was on the towel now) and rage flashed through his eyes. Greg was saying something over the earwig but Wordy barely heard his voice. Eric was focusing on his father for the most part, but a short glance back at Wordy got his attention.

"Y...you actually care?" Eric asked, seeming genuinely surprised. Wordy took a deep breath, trying to control his anger.

"Eric, I don't blame you in the slightest for what you're doing. I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing in your position," Wordy took another breath, realizing that it was getting difficult for him to breath. "but this isn't the way. I promise you, they will never hurt you again." Wordy stressed the last part of his sentence, staring intensely into Eric's eyes. "I will make sure that they never get the chance to hurt you again," Tears were rolling down Eric's face as he tried to maintain composure. "but I need you to give me the gun Eric, please. Give me the gun and you and I walk out of here, they go to jail, and you get the help you deserve." Eric looked hopeful at that suggestion. He took a few deep breaths, slowly lowering the gun to his side, still not letting go, but not pointing it at his father for the first time since they'd begun. Jules, through her scope, saw the scene unfold and was dictating what she could see of the scene.

"Looks like he's heading into green, Wordy's talked him down, just a matter of him giving the gun up. Looks good." Jules narrated for her team members who could not see the events unfolding. "Oh, shit." She said over the microphone as Eric quickly escalated, going up to his father and holding the gun directly to his temple. "Big problem boss. Subject is in the red. Sierra 1 has the solution, I repeat, Sierra 1 has the solution."

_Cliffhangers! Yippie! I'll see what I finish tonight, this might be it until the weekend...but that would be really cruel...I don't know, I mean is sleep really necessary?_


	7. Chapter 7

Suburban Deception- Chapter 7

_This is getting pretty lengthy. And to think that the idea started as a one-shot. Thanks for your reading and your reviews, I really do appreciate it. Here we go again: I do not own Flashpoint, Wordy would have such a bigger role, we'd get to see Ed be more sensitive, and someone would have to come in at some point and take some of the burden off Greg...but another day maybe..._

"I knew you didn't have the guts to be a man." Jerry King mumbled from the floor.

Wordy was yelling with as much fervor as possible, Eric was daring him to say it again, and the man who made everything go to hell, was just smiling. "Shut up! You stop talking now asshole!" Wordy yelled, stepping slightly into the bedroom before feeling dizzy again. Ed stepped up behind him, getting a slightly better angle, still trying not to expose himself. Wordy could barley hear Greg's voice over the radio.

"Negative Sierra 1. Hold position but do not shoot." Wordy was reeling, dizzy, barley able to stand. Both his shoulder and his head ached immensely. For some reason he felt like he was swimming, everything was difficult to do. He backed himself up against the wall and sat down, breathing deeply.

"Listen Eric," Wordy rasped as the room grew eerily quiet. He took a few deep breaths, "I know your pissed, I get that because I'm pissed too." He paused to breath again. Sam had finally arrived but gas was no longer an option, Wordy was in too bad shape and any more stress on his body would kill him. Ed waved him off to cover a different angle, they needed to get in there, now. "Eric, one of the guys on my team is outside, but I don't want you to be afraid okay, because..." he took another few breaths "he has a son, he's your age, and let me tell you, he's probably even angrier than me right now." Wordy took another few breaths as Eric confusedly asked,

"Why are you telling me this?" Wordy took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"In a few seconds, I'm going to pass out. And you're going to talk to Ed, and you're going to give him the gun. I promise, it'll be okay." Wordy could hear Ed at the door talking. He could hear Greg yelling at him, yelling his name, but beyond that he couldn't understand a word. He also heard Eric yelling, something he hadn't expected. The next thing he knew, Sam was beside him, catching him as he almost fell to the floor.

_I know it was short. I know it was a cliffhanger. Don't kill me for it and you'll see what coming next. I've decided that it's worth finishing this up, I'll sleep when I'm done. Next part will be up soon (assuming the unforeseeable passing out at my laptop)._


	8. Chapter 8

Suburban Deception-Chapter 8

_So here we go, I'm seeing maybe one of two more chapters to give you guys an estimate (I'll see how it flows, this might be the last one). Thanks for reading, especially Taboo-Hearts, thanks for all the kind words of encouragement. Really helped motivate me to finish it up tonight. I own nothing. _

The first thing he noticed was that the ticking of the clock was obnoxiously loud; loud to the point of driving any sane individual to insanity in an instant. That was his first thought, then he actually began to remember. It came back in a rush, chronologically, (it would have been confusing if otherwise). _I was running, oh that call sucked, and then , gunshots, house, Eric, those bruises, oh shit!_ He opened his eyes and bolted up out of the bed only to be floored again by the searing pain in his shoulder and the dizziness that flooded his head.

"Easy there cowboy," a gentle hand fell onto his uninjured shoulder, both supporting him and holding him down. When he stopped grinding his teeth in pain, he opened his eyes to see Greg standing over him with his unforgettable multi-emotion expression. Wordy looked at his face. He could tell Greg was relieved that he was awake, but he could also see anger, or maybe that was frustration (Greg always told them there was a difference) and there was also a hint of pride. "Congratulations, Docs said that you set a new record," Greg said with a slight scowl on his face,

"In what?" Wordy asked weakly, seeing how the conversation was going to play out.

"Blood loss." Greg said bitterly. Wordy gave a quick nod, understanding what Greg was telling him. "What you did was really stupid Kevin." Greg said with a serious expression. _Kevin, god this is just like when I was sent to the principal's office...at least he doesn't know my middle name, that would be even worse._ Wordy thought, trying to bring humor to the situation, he never remembered seeing Greg this seriously angry.

"How's Eric?" Wordy asked, desperately wanting to change the conversation. Greg decided to back down for a little while and give Wordy the information before he went back to lecturing him.

"He's okay. He gave Ed the gun and ran over to you the minute you closed your eyes. He said that you were probably the closest thing he had to a father. He's in the psych ward now." Greg saw the Wordy's confused look. "He was badly abused, you knew that, but the scars on his arms and wrists were self-inflicted. he was cutting himself to cope with everything. It was a tough life, the abuse wasn't only physical, his father had been breaking him down emotionally, caving him in, making it impossible for him to get out by himself." Greg paused as he helped Wordy drink from the cup of water left by his bed. "Things escalated tonight, it was the first time that Dad had hit Ryan, seems that he was evaluated at school and he's dyslexic. Dad likes perfection and apparently learning disabilities throw off his view." Greg stopped as Wordy leaned back into the bed.

"You're not okay Wordy, are you?" Greg asked with sympathetic eyes. Wordy let out a slight laugh.

"You'd probably know better than me Sarge, I mean I'm sure you were badgering them at the desk the entire surgery and I'm sure that the Doc briefed you when he was done." Wordy knew that this was not the answer Greg was looking for, but he didn't want to think about the alternative.

"I'm not talking physical Wordy." Greg said gently. Wordy looked away for the first time since he woke up and stayed quiet for a moment. He knew that Greg would wait for hours if he had to, so he decided to talk now and get it over with.

"I had to same him." Wordy said simply, looking at Greg with a pained expression. Greg nodded, understanding the words themselves, but looking for the meaning behind them.

"You do your best to save everyone though Wordy. This kid was different because of the abuse, it was horrific and, let's face it, families and domestic violence have a special meaning to you, a unique, emotional meaning. But why tonight Wordy, why all the risks? You should have been at home sleeping, it was a long day." Wordy cringed a little at that statement, bringing back the memories from the earlier call, the slight twitch did not escape Greg. "So that was it, it was the call that threw you over. You couldn't save them Wordy, none of us could." Greg said with a firm voice.

The call came flowing back to him. It was a family, three kids, two parents, 'all around good people' the neighbors told them. No one realized though, that the mother was in the middle of a bipolar mania, being off her medication for three weeks. Her delusions had grown worse until she killed her husband with the gun he bought to protect them. They were called in after the first shot. Greg was negotiating (or trying to), Spike was in the truck, Sam and Jules were trying to find a way in to the basement in the case of an aggressive entry, but they were having trouble figuring out a way to keep the kids out of the line of fire. That left Ed and Wordy covering Greg. She had her kids with her, all of them kneeling on the floor of the basement, a gun to the older girls head, the younger boy in front of her, shielding her. Greg was mid-sentence when the first shot went off, surprising all of them. Greg called for the boy to come to him as the daughter fell to the ground, dead. The boy tried to break free, but before either Ed or Wordy could get an angle without hitting the boy, the mother had killed him. Ed got a shot off as she began to aim the gun at Greg and killed her on impact. The memories came flooding back as Wordy tried to hold his tears.

"I should have been able to save them." Wordy's voice cracked as he tried to explain. "I had a better angle than Ed, I should have been able to anticipate the first shot, she never should have been able to shoot the boy. I should have taken the kill shot right there." Tears had leaked from Wordy's eyes as he at least tried to control his breathing, which was growing ragged.

"Look at me Wordy." Greg said firmly as Wordy tried to look away and hide his tears. "Kevin, look at me." This time Wordy looked up and saw Greg's warm eyes and comforting face. "It was not your fault. It was nobody's fault but the subject's. There is nothing you could have done and there is nothing you can do now. So you need to stop doing stupid things and taking stupid risks in the effort to save other people." Greg paused for a moment to let his words sink in. "You've got something great going Wordy, you're pretty much the only guy on the force with a wife and kids who don't hate you for what you do and you need to stop making me call them to tell them that you're hurt or you're in danger. It's not fair to them Wordy, and it's not fair to you either. You can't keep holding yourself to impossible standards of perfection, it'll kill you one of these days." Greg finished, nearly teary himself.

Wordy didn't know what to say, partially because he knew Greg was right about everything, mostly because he was falling asleep from the exhaustion that had suddenly overcome him. "Oh not you don't," Greg said as he dipped his fingers into the cup of water and gently started flicking the water onto Wordy's face. "I know you need your rest and all, but you are not allowed to fall asleep yet because I swore to Shelly and three little girls out there that the minute their Daddy woke up they could run in here and give you a hug. I am not going back on my promise." Greg said with a smile as he got up and went to the door. "Shelly," he whispered. She sprang up, making all the girls jump out of their seats and run in. Wordy was energized by their presence.

"Hey!" He said as happily as he could muster. Greg lifted each of them onto the side of the bed, telling them to be careful of the wires. "Hey sweethearts, Daddy's going to be okay, alright? Don't you guys worry, I'll be good as new in no time." He said reassuringly. Shelly leaned over and kissed him. "I'm sorry honey." He said quietly, she nodded, it was obvious she hadn't slept in a while.

"Daddy?" Claire asked cautiously.

"Yeah Princess, what's up?" He asked looking at her gently.

"Uncle Greg says you were being a cowboy...what does he mean?" She asked innocently. Wordy smiled and looked up at Greg, who shrugged his shoulders with a smile.

"Uncle Greg, do you care to explain?" He asked sarcastically.

"I think that's more in your realm of your parental duty Dad, I'm just the cool uncle." Greg laughed.

"Gunshot wound, record blood loss, you're up." Wordy said pointing to his shoulder jokingly.

"Or maybe it's the really cool uncle's job to explain." Ed's voice came from the door and the whole team was standing there, Ed holding extra cups of coffee and juice.

"I like that option." Wordy said as he leaned back in the bed and closed his eyes listening to the sounds of his family (immediate and extended) talk and laugh, reminisce and bicker, support and love.

_That's all she wrote. She meaning me and wrote meaning...well wrote...for this story, for tonight. Hope you liked it. Hope you'll leave me some feedback. Hope everyone else will be blessed with a snow day tomorrow (today I guess), and if it's not an official snow day for us, I'm playing hokey (at least from my 9:40 AM class)! Night all, and thanks. _


End file.
